This afternoon me mam asked had I been writing while she was away, and I realised that not one word has escaped my pen (or keyboard) since 2014. Why? What reason have I for such fantastic indolence? I have a job – just – but I barely work more than one day a week, if that. Mostly I sit on my ass at home, playing xbox 360 and surfing teh net for whatever tickles my fancy. Said fancy is usually tickled by football news, gaming news, mark kermode’s film reviews, and leftist politics. Just in case you were wondering, like.
I’m not seeking pity, you understand – this is actually all quite fulfilling. Yeah, a job would be nice; sense of accomplishment, social interaction, self-worth boost, something to talk about when I meet up with friends/relatives/acquaintances… Twould all be very nice. But, like, that’s in a perfect world. With a perfect job. And for somebody with my kind of anxiety, anything less than that eventually just makes me hate myself and everyone around me. Which makes full-time work essentially out of the question, and even part-time work seriously uncomfortable.
Meanwhile, I pretty much enjoy contributing to online discussions and what-have-you, in the time-honoured tradition of the armchair/keyboard warrior. SJW and proud, that’s me. This internet activism lark is pretty much all I add to my side in the class war, but it’s something I guess. Very little, granted, but nonetheless some sort of voice chiming in with the dispossessed and the disenfranchised. Tis a start, ya might say…if you were feeling charitable.
Anyway, that’s over 250 words, so I can say I’ve written something now. HUZZAH!
Now back to World of Tanks. Still haven’t managed to grind my way to a T-34 yet…
Solidarity, brothers & sisters…☭